Rolling a Hook
by rainbowGraham
Summary: Set in alternative universe where Emma is just a normal single mother taking care of her son in Boston. Captain Swan. When Emma and her son Henry are kicked out of their apartment just a couple of weeks before Christmas, they are forced to stay at their friend Ruby's home in a terrible Boston neighbourhood. Next door is a bowling alley, owned by the handsome Killian Jones.
1. Chapter One: Christmas in Mattapan

Mattapan, Boston. Blanchard's Diner.

"It's almost six. Just a couple more minutes and she can go home to her son. She wiped the diner table again, hoping to look busy so that customers won't ask for her. Especially that annoying couple with the baby. What exactly are they doing with a baby at this time of day, in Mattapan of all places? She used to live in Roslindale when Henry was a baby but the prices were too high. Too high for a single mom with no college qualifications, anyway.

"Excuse me, miss? Can we get a refill?" asked the mother of the baby. Emma almost slammed her head into the table. It's probably the third time the woman has inquired about refills. When will she learn that refill's are only free with coffee, tap water or soda's? She strutted over to the table, too tired to ignore the woman and have to face the wrath of manager Louie. "Yes ma'am, what can I get you?" she inquired, pencil and notepad in hand. She faked a smile for the couple.  
"Uh, can I get a refill of my hot coco?" she asked again. Emma nodded her head, and wrote down on the notepad.

"Sure, but you are aware that will cost you?" Emma questioned. The woman looks back shocked, chocolate brown curls of hair falling from her bun. "Excuse me, but that signs say's that they're free" the woman stated, pointing a manicured finger at the sign. Oh, the days when she could afford to have her nails painted, they were glorious. Well, at least compared to now, when all her money went on rent. "Yes, ma'am, but refill's are only free for coffee, water and soda. If you have a problem, take it up with management." Emma replied. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It's four minutes till six. Four minutes. A lot can happen in four minutes. "Don't take that tone with me, miss," the woman shouted. "I am a customer here, and is the customer not always right?" she asked loudly. Emma sighed. A common misinterpretation, she thought. Sometimes the customer is a bitch who really needs an attitude adjustment. " Listen, ma'am," Emma said, gritting her teeth in frustration. "This is diner policy. If you want another hot cocoa then you will have to pay the same price as you did before. I am sorry, now, if there is anything else I can get-"

"CAN YOU GET ME A REFILL ON MY HOT COCO? BECAUSE THAT WOULD GREAT!" The woman yelled at Emma. The baby gurgled and looked up with its big blue eyes. Emma stared at the baby, then at the mother. Suddenly, Louie entered from the kitchen. "Emma, mind telling me what's going on?" he asked, walking to the table. He smiled over eagerly at the couple, and pet the gurgling baby on its head. "Louie, I was just telling this... lovely customer that she can not get a free hot cocoa as it is not part of the refillable menu" Emma remarked, restraining herself from having to wrap her hands around the pompous woman's neck and wringing it like a chicken. God, all she really wanted was money for taco's. Was this really worth it? "I am so sorry for the inconvenience ma'am, but I'm afraid that what your waitress is saying is true, we simply can not give you hot coco for free" Louie politely responded. Emma looked at him; shocked. Usually, she'd be in trouble. She turned back to the woman, smiling smugly. The woman, in turn, gave her the most venomous look she'd received for a long time. Then she smiled, her lips thinning like a snake. "Mr, Louie is it? Yes, well, Mr Louie, I ordered a cheeseburger with fries as my meal, and when this so-called waitress appeared with my food, there was no cheese on my burger, nor was there any 'slaw with my fries, which I believe was promised. Now, I overlooked this little blunder at the time, however, I don't believe that it is fair for me to have to pay for another mug of coco when the correct meal was not even delivered to me and I have already paid for that." The woman smirked, batting her false eyelashes at Louie. Emma drew in her breath, fighting the urge to smack the eyelashes off her face. She checked in her notepad. There was one order of a hamburger with fries and one order of a burrito. No mention of cheese anywhere. "Emma, is this true?" Louie asked, with a disapproving eye. Emma showed him her notepad.

"Not according to my notepad, Louie" Emma said, looking back at the woman with an equally malicious glare. "Well, then, you must have forgotten to write it down, you silly goose" the woman chuckled. Louie nervously laughed too, looking at the clock on the wall. "You know what, Emma? Your shift is over now, so why don't you go home and I'll deal with this?" Louie suggested. Emma was more than happy to get away from that vile woman, and felt that she'd got off lightly. Sometimes customers try to haggle for free food, but if they had Emma, they usually ended up with spilled milkshake. Just as she turned to get her coat, Louie came up behind her and, whispering in her ear menacingly, declared "If you're going to make mistakes like that again, don't bother coming in tomorrow". Emma shuddered at his voice. Or maybe it was the cool wind blowing in from the open door. Either way, she knew she had to get out of there before that woman made another remark. She slipped on her red funneled neck coat, grabbed her leather purse and rushed out the door, into the blustery winter weather.

Approaching Christmas, this was always a bad time for Emma. A bargain Christmas buffet, a maximum of fifty dollars to spend on presents, and discount decorations. No family to go to, which helped costs stay down. Still, it was no real way to celebrate the holiday's. Henry seemed to enjoy it, but that could have been the two weeks he got off from school. Which required her to find a babysitter's or time off work. Less money coming in or more money coming out, it was always a stretch on her wallet those months. As long as Henry was happy, that was all that mattered. Of course, he always was. Their holiday's together had always been the same, right from his very first. She supposed that, not knowing anything different made him enjoy it more. Poor kid, Emma thought. Even when she was in care, they had had decent food, and a really big tree with a beautiful silver angel on top. She always fought to put that angel on the tree, but at all the times she had stayed at that specific home; she never got to. When Emma was pregnant, and had decided to keep the baby, she had a lot of spare time in prison. One time, when it was Christmas, they had an arts and crafts course to help them make decorations for their loved ones. Emma at first thought about sending Henry's father a bauble with some choice words to show her 'appreciation', but after the teacher saw what she did, she changed her mind. Didn't she want something nice for her baby, a family heirloom? The teacher had asked. Emma thought of the angel on the tree and made one out of glitter and paint and paper and ribbon. It wasn't quite as professional as she had hoped, she was only eighteen, but it was hers. She remembered feeling Henry kick her in thanks.

Walking down the streets, watching shoppers madly rushing by, teenagers wielding imaginary guns and knives at their friends, streetlamps illuminating kissing couples. Emma was at peace. She knew she could handle Louie. Since she had started her new weekend cleaning job, she had a little extra money. Maybe they could get a turkey to themselves this year. Buy Henry that games console he was always going on about. A new superstore was opening just around the corner from their apartment, she could always go there. Heck, she'd even invite Ruby to dinner. She knew she'd need a break from looking after her senile grandmother, this would be perfect. They'd be like a real family.

Emma turned the corner, and the pleasant atmosphere disappeared. She buried down further in her coat, ignoring passersby like she ignored Gloria the 'Deputy' Manager at Blanchard's. The distant sound of a police siren chilled her to her very core, more than the weather itself. Mattapan was not a good neighbourhood. To be fair, she was right on the edge, practically in Dorchester. However, pricing was too steep in there. Luckily, it still entitled Henry to go to a Dorchester school, and for her to work at a Dorchester diner. God only knew what the schools were like in Mattapan. It's nick-named Murderpan because of the high crime rates. Not the best place to raise a child, Emma knew, but Henry was a smart boy. He didn't talk to strangers, or the police. Kept it brief when conversing with the locals. Never opened the door for anyone he didn't know, no matter who they claimed to be. He took karate lessons once a week at the local community centre, and stayed up-to-date on the latest crime statistics. Stayed out of places where felonies had recently been committed. Spent most of his time at home. A little anti-social, maybe, but better than dead. Emma shuddered at the thought.

As she arrived at the apartment block, she could hear a loud commotion coming from inside. Instantly fearing for her son's safety, she rushed as fast as she could on the icy November pavements. The door was opening, mean cold air would whistle through their apartment for the rest of the night. Mr Mills, the landlord, was shouting at No.101. Emma didn't know No.101's name, only that she was a beanpole of a woman with black and white hair. She also had about a five dozen dalmatians puppies that peed in all the hallways and chewed up her mail if she didn't get to it in time. No. 101 was mumbling something and avoiding eye contact, and Mr Mills sighed dramatically, his hands on his hips. "Everything okay?" Emma asked. No.101 started yelling at her to mind her own business and stomped off in a huff. Emma turned to look at Mr Mills. "Sorry, but she didn't like the letter she received today." Mr Mills said. He gave Emma a warm and gentle smile, then preceded to climb the stairs, motioning for her to join him. Emma took this as her cue "What did the letter say?" she asked.

"Well," he began, "You should know soon enough, you've got one too. All the tenants have." He looked at her cautiously, perhaps worried that she might have peeing puppies as well. Emma, though, was too busy running up the stairs to her floor to notice. Finally arriving at No.23, she unlocked the door, found the letter on the floor and, ignoring her son's hello's, tore open the letter. A mystified Henry got up from the floor, where he had been doing his homework from whilst also watching TV; and came up behind her. "Mom, what is it?" he asked anxiously. Emma didn't respond, just read the letter over again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mr Mills passing her door on the way up to the top floor. "HEY, HEY, HEY! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU ARE GOING, WE NEED TO DISCUSS THIS!" Emma shouted at him. He stopped, mid-step, then slumped back down to face her. "Emma, I'm sorry, if I didn't have to then I wouldn't-"

"Two weeks notice! Seriously, two weeks notice! It's December next week, I have barely enough money as it is, and you give me two weeks notice? I mean, a months notice would have been better than this! You know I can't afford to pay the bills without my extra job but this... this is just plain ludicrous!" Emma ranted. She smacked her hand against the wall and immediately regretted it. Mr Mills just shook his head, apologised some more, and, back hunched over with worry, climbed the stairs. Emma slammed the door shut and tossed her purse on the dining table, then shrugged her coat off and sat down on the recliner. Henry perched at the other end, looking at her curiously. "Mom?" he inquired simply. Emma finally looked up from the letter, acknowledging her son. She looked at his ruffled brown hair, his sweet hazel eyes, his scruffy pajamas. Her little boy. She had to protect him, take care of him. But they had agreed a long time ago, not to keep secrets from each other. With a heavy sigh, Emma stated the truth, "Henry, sweetie, they're kicking us out".

"What?" Henry asked, confused. Emma couldn't handle the somber look canvasing his face, and hugged him. "It's okay kid, we'll find somewhere much better in time for Christmas; don't you worry about that" she said, arms enveloping him in warmth and love. She held him tight, afraid to let go, afraid of the questions. How was she going to find somewhere new in time? "But, I don't understand," Henry started, removing himself from his mother's comforting embrace. "Why?" he asked, puzzled. Emma gathered her thoughts, trying to find the simplest way to tell her son the inevitable. "Henry it's, it's... y'know that new superstore that they're building around the corner?" she asked, unsure of her train of thought. Henry remained puzzled. "Well, that superstore has... increased the value of the surrounding area or something like that. And that means that the price of everything has gone up. Like, a lot. And kid, well, we can barely afford it now. Once this comes into action, in two weeks, we won't be able to afford it. Do you understand?" Emma inquired. Henry got down from her lap and looked at her. He tilted his head to one side, then to the other. Emma knew he was thinking. "What if I quit school and get a job?" he asked earnestly. Emma laughed emptily.

"No, Henry. You're too young, and have so much potential. I'm not letting you waste that. It's fine sweetie, don't you worry about it, okay? I'm going to sort this mess out" Emma said. She hugged Henry again, then marched to kitchenette, attempting to look purposeful, and got out the cold pizza from yesterday. "Sorry kid, looks like this is all we have" Emma said, as she chucked some slices on a plate and put them in the microwave. In a matter of minutes, their supper would be ready. Emma opened the fridge and searched for something to drink. There wasn't much in, she knew she had to go shopping soon. She grabbed a can of soda and handed it to Henry, resigning herself to a glass of water. She picked through her purse as Henry cleared away his homework and sat down, patiently waiting. Henry knew better than to complain about old pizza, especially when his mother furrowed her brow. Emma found an old magazine stuffed in her purse and some mints. Nothing inspired her. She felt herself falling into a black pit of despair. Just as things had been looking up, they fell down. Hard. As they always seemed to. Emma wondered who she had angered in the universe to deserve this kind of punishment.


	2. Chapter Two: Moving Again

A knock on the varnished, ebony door.

A few holly berries fell off the Christmas wreath and onto the ground; bursting beneath Emma's boots . The door opened abruptly, and there appeared Ruby, in all her crimson glory. Her face was a mask of exasperation that soon disappeared when she saw that it was Emma knocking at the door and not her pumpkin ale-fueled ex boyfriend Peter. She welcomed Emma in with open arms, extending the door so that she could get in. As Emma entered, again, she was thrown off guard by how different Ruby's apartment was compared to hers. Despite it being situated right in the midst of Mattapan, it was at once more pleasant than Emma's home had ever been. Perhaps this was the grandmotherly touch it had gained over the years.

"Fruit cake, for your grandmother" Emma said, handing the slightly burnt loaf over. Emma preceded to take of her coat and hung it on the rack by the door. Ruby had gone to the kitchen to cut up the cake and make some tea. Looking around, Emma couldn't help but smile at the floral wallpaper, crotchet doilies and china tea pot collections. On her first visit to Ruby's apartment since moving in with her grandmother, she'd almost fallen back in surprise at the comeliness of her home. Emma was still surprised Ruby didn't give it her own spirited modern twist. Then again, Ruby was living off her grandmothers wealthy pension, and Emma knew the old woman would fight tooth and nail for everything to remain the way it was.

Ruby and Emma met at Granny's Diner, about seven years ago. Ruby had been arguing with a customer about the quality of the hamburger meat, as it was well known that Granny's would do anything for a good bargain. Emma had just started working there, and Ruby took her under her wing after seeing how terrible Emma was at taking orders without snapping back at the customers. One cloudless summer's evening, a bedraggled looking woman sat down in Emma's section. A stream of coins fell onto the table, and using her meagre change the woman ordered a steak; raw. When Ruby saw who it was, she was visibly shocked and ran out the door. Emma had ran after her, checking she was okay. That's when Ruby first told her something about herself: that was her hapless, drug-addicted mother, Anita. Ruby's father had died when she was six; and it destroyed her mother's heart. One day, Ruby had been playing in the pine woods near her house when she became hungry and traveled back to her home. Except the door wouldn't open, Ruby had been locked outside. She had lived on a remote farm in northern Minnesota, where her parents had bred Arabian horses. A family of gray wolves had taken refuge in one of the barns days before and Ruby ran to the barn when it started to rain. Instead of hurting her, though, the wolves recognised the lost soul and cared for her. A year later social services, after hearing reports of strange little girl living in the woods; discovered the truth. Her mother went to prison for child neglect and she was raised solely by her grandmother.

When Emma saw the look of anguish in Ruby's eyes, the same look she often saw growing up in care, Emma stepped forward and hugged her. She told Ruby that she had never had any parents, that they left her at the side of the road when she was born. From that moment onward, they were close friends; connected by their shared pain.  
"What kind of tea do you want?" Ruby inquired. "We have green, chai, jasmine, oolong-"

"My god what is it with your grandmother and teas? I remember the days when she could eat a chocolate milkshake and triple cheese hamburger and still have room for a slice of pie. Now all she eats is that expensive organic produce" Emma sighed.

"I think that heart-attack she had two years ago had something to do with it" Ruby retorted sarcastically.

"Yeah, I know I mean, its just... oolong?" Emma laughed.

"Its actually not that bad you know. I mean, I'm more of a coffee kind girl, but its still pretty good stuff" Ruby replied. She placed two porcelain teacups on the table and started to pour hot water into them. Then, she grabbed two earl grey teabags from the cupboard and dunked them in the tea cups. Looking up, she noticed there was another tea cup in the glass cabinet, with a small chip in it. Emma remembered Ruby telling her the story of 'The Chipped Cup'.

Her grandmother used to be a cleaner at a New York townhouse, owned by a very wealthy and important man. The 'beastly' Mr Lucas was hardly ever seen, he instead chose to spend his time cooped up in his office. The rumours were that he had been disfigured in a car accident caused by his malicious first wife Fae. The poor man was so ashamed of his appearance that he hid from the rest of the world and conducted all his business in his office, and that in a fit of rage he had smashed all the mirrors in his home but one. That resplendent, hand-gilded and jewel-encrusted hand mirror was a family heirloom, and so he kept it. One day, she had been cleaning in his bedroom when she found the mirror lying on his bedside table. Unable to help herself, she gently picked up the mirror. Suddenly, the bedroom door was thrust open and she dropped the mirror on the floor, shattering the antique. Mr Lucas, however, stared at her until finally; quietly telling her to leave. Several days later, she was cleaning in his en suite when she noticed a crystal amphora of roses. The strange thing was that all but one of the ruby red roses had withered and decayed. She plucked that single rose and, in doing so, pricked her finger on its sharp thorns. A single drop of blood fell onto the ivory flagstone floor. Mr Lucas emerged, and, after staring at her again, asked her to leave. A week later, she was cleaning a timeworn tea set before going to bed. As she picked up one of the teacups, Mr Lucas burst through the door and the cup fell from her hands. Amazingly, it did not shatter, but instead had a small chip in one side. Mr Lucas looked at the cup, then fell to her knees and wept. He had been so lonely, and had been trying to work up the courage to talk to her; he said. She, in turn, granted him a smile, and kissed his hand. That night, they made love to each other, and the next day they were wed. However, the night they had shared had been a transformation, not just of him but of her. She became pregnant, and had a baby called Anita. He, however, had transformed for the worst, and, overcome with confidence and power, changed into a monstrous beast. She was trapped in a marriage with a man she did not know. Fearing what would become of her baby, she fled to her home of Minnesota, and raised her there. Only when her granddaughter Ruby was born did she work up the courage to return to New York. She was intent on returning the chipped cup to her husband, but when she got there she found that he had died. She, instead, carried on until she got to Boston, where she has resided since.

Emma sighed inwardly. It was such a beautifully sad story. It made her wonder how her parents had met and fallen in love. Or maybe that was the problem, they hadn't fallen in love. "You know, this place is incredible but it's like a gingerbread house in the middle of forest. Tempting. I mean, no wonder you can't afford to move out with these portraits of dead people and this oolong tea stuff?"

"I don't want to move. I've got all the essentials here and if we moved then I wouldn't have as much money for my caramel macchiato's" Ruby chuckled. She had finished with the tea and pushed Emma a cup, sitting down at the table. Emma grabbed a chair and slid into place, wrapping her hands around the cup to warm her cold, November hands. "A coffee girl? Well know I know what I'm getting you for Christmas. Well, if I can afford it" Emma said. She took a sip and smiled.

"I don't care if you get me anything for Christmas, I just want you to be there on the day to help me celebrate. I can't have another Christmas with just me and the old bag in there. She'll drive me crazy!" Ruby said jokingly, though Emma could hear a hint of desperation in her voice.

"I'll think about it Ruby, but I honestly I don't know where I'm living at the moment let alone what I'm doing Christmas day, so you'll have to hang on there." she said. Ruby looked at Emma.

"What do you mean, not knowing where your living. what's going on Emma?" Ruby asked perturbed. Emma was hesitant. She hadn't come there to lumber all her problems on Ruby. It was just her usual cake and tea meeting. But the look on Ruby's face meant she wouldn't let it go, and Emma knew better than to argue with Ruby. She'd been the head of her high school debate team. "We're being kicked out" Emma stated. Ruby almost dropped her tea cup on the walnut dining table. Emma looked down at her hands. It had been a week since she'd found out the news and she still didn't know what to do. "You're being kicked out... at Christmas?" Ruby struggled to say. Emma nodded. "Well, I could still live there, its just that Mr Mills has raised the rent and I simply can't afford to pay it. So, yeah, I guess we're moving" she let out a sigh of regret, tired. Apartment searching was getting her nowhere. "You know, you could always stay here. We have enough room, though you and Henry might have to share a bedroom. Henry could help me with my grandmother at the weekend and with all of us paying the rent, it'll be cheaper. Plus, the landlord, Mr Gold, just got married and he's super happy now. If there was ever an opportune moment to ask him it would be now." Ruby said hopefully, glancing back at her grandmother asleep on the couch. An uncontrollable smile spread across Emma's face. She needed a place for Christmas, and she knew this apartment would do just fine. "Really? You'll really let us stay?" Emma asked, feeling a little giddy.

"Well, I'll have to check with Grandma first, but I'm sure she won't mind" Ruby replied. Two years ago, her grandmother had suffered from a heart attack that left her very ill. Ruby quit her job at Granny's Diner to take care of her, moving back into her apartment and living off her money. Emma had left Granny's diner just a couple of months before after Blanchard's opened up. She had been trying to get Ruby a job there, as it paid much better.

"Oh Emma, this is going to be so cool. This place is, well... no offense or anything, but its so much nicer than your apartment. The four of us, we can have a proper Christmas dinner and presents and everything will be magical. There's a bowling alley next door, so Henry can hang out there. The shop's are just down the street-" Ruby gushed.

"Hey, Ruby, you are aware that there is a strip club next to the shops also, aren't you? And that this is a truly terrible neighbourhood. Everywhere is filthy and disgusting. There's drinking and smoking and fighting. That bowling alley is loud and cheap and open all hours of the day, I hate walking past it let alone live next to it. Don't even get me started on the stripping" Emma said.

Ruby rolled her eyes. "I'm not saying its perfect, and sure The Jolly Roger's is a little seedy but what better offer do you have?"

"Well I..." Emma started, unsure.

"Exactly. Don't knock it until you try, my Grandma says. It's not going to be for long anyway, because I know you Emma, and you do not back down from a fight. You a smart and resourceful and amazing. You will find a new place to live in no time." Ruby smiled.

"Thank you so much for the offer, I will gladly accept it. Look, I'm sorry, its just this place worries me. I want to escape Boston, go somewhere nicer but I just can't afford it. I'm just feeling sorry for myself, ignore me Ruby" Emma said. Ruby chuckled, replying;

"I always do".

After finishing her tea, Emma got up and hugged Ruby, then went on her way home. Her only day off work and she'd managed to find them somewhere to stay. A smile spread across her face as she closed the door, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She couldn't wait to tell Henry. Outside of the apartment, Emma mentally fist pumped the air; Judd Nelson style. Suddenly, she was face to face with a bemused older man she recognised to be Mr Gold, Ruby's landlord. Hanging on his arm was a much younger and very pretty brunette with a bedazzling gold ring on her finger. His new bride. No wonder he was so happy. "Hello dearie, I don't believe we've officially met." He smiled, showing a mouth dusted with gold teeth. "Hello, sir, uh, my name is Emma Swan, actually, I would really like to speak to you" she said. The man looked quizzical. "And why would that be?" he inquired.

"Well, I happen to be friends with Ruby and her grandmother, and my son and I are being kicked out of our apartment. And... well, long story short, Ruby said it would be okay for us to stay with them over Christmas. I was just wondering on what the payment and paperwork would be for that?" Emma asked. Mr Gold looked her up and down. "You know what, Miss Swan, that would be fine. I'll leave the appropriate paperwork Miss Ruby and you can fill it out when you need to" he said. Emma beamed. "Really? Wow, thank you so much!" She looked at elevator, then back at them. "Are yo going out, perhaps to the bowling alley or someplace nice?" she asked politely. Mr Gold scoffed. "The Jolly Roger Bowling Alley? I detest that place. Everything around is filthy and tacky. That place is open all day long, people drinking outside at all hours. This area really has gone to hell since it opened. You must be desperate" he laughed, the led his bride to the elevator. Emma look taken aback. Despite this, she carried on happily down the stairs; anxiously anticipating the look on her son's face when he found out the great news.


	3. Chapter Three: Box Full of Memories

Their bags were packed.

Emma stole one last glance around the apartment. They'd had some good times in there, no matter how cramped or mildewy it was. Henry's ninth birthday, where they ate chocolate cake with their hands after someone had forgotten to wash all the cutlery. Graham, cooking them lamb stew for their sixth months anniversary right before he spilled the news he was leaving. Henry practising his role for Bugsy Malone, the school play, and finally getting the courage to sing. Emma knew she was going to miss their home, but what could she do? She was already at a tense time at Blanchard's, and she highly doubted she could get any more money. It was times like these that she considered calling Neal, asking him for help. No, though. She couldn't go back to him. She'd fall under his spell, an enchantment he cast upon her every time she saw him. He'd broken her heart, he'd ruined her. Neal had nothing to give her but Henry.

"Mom?" Henry's voice beckoned her to the hallway. Closing the door one, final time, Emma sighed and picked up a cardboard box full of trinkets from her childhood. Purposefully, Emma walked down the stairs, following Henry's voice singing down the stairs. Regina, Mr Mills rebellious teenage daughter and Henry's frequent babysitter, came behind Emma; carrying the final suitcase. Once they were at the bottom of the stairs, Emma saw Ruby holding the door open. Today she was wearing denim dungarees on top of a shiny red blouse with a black Peter Pan collar. Emma was glad she'd managed to persuade not to go for her favourite pair of obsidian black pumps. Ruby was always looking for an occasion to wear her only pair of high quality and designer heel's, just to show how cool she was. But this wasn't the neighbourhood to do it in. Or the job. She didn't understand how she could totter around all day in her kitten heels, but lifting suitcases and heavy boxes around was not a job for expensive shoes.

Emma walked through the doorway of the apartment complex, smiling at the afternoon sun. She could feel its warmth tickling her face, flaming tendrils stroking her cheek, kissing her lips. Emma decided to enjoy it whilst it lasted, knowing it would be the last time this weather would be like this till at least next year. She wished she had the day free, so that she could pack a picnic, jump on a train and take Henry to the beach. But no, she had to move the rest of her baggage to Ruby's. She'd already set up most of their stuff yesterday, but the breakables went today.

Emma clutched the box tighter, scared it might fall. There were things in their she did not want Henry to see. Or anyone else.

"You got everything?" Ruby asked, breaking Emma's concentration. "Emma?" Ruby asked again, perturbed.

"I'm fine, just lost in my thoughts" Emma waved away Ruby's concern. She looked around for Henry, and spotted him conversing with Regina.

"I'm gonna miss you Henry!" Regina said, her voice breaking. She was trying to stay strong, but she really couldn't. Henry was the closest thing she had to family, ever since her mother had died and left her father a shell of his former self. Even when he complained about her smothering him, she loved him. Regina hugged him hard, fat, wet tears falling on her cheeks. Henry hugged her back, unsure. He'd been told it was an adventure, staying at Ruby's home. He'd have to help her with her grandmother, and share a room with his mom, but they'd have a proper Christmas. Henry wasn't sure what his mom had meant by that. To him, a proper Christmas was the one they always had. At least she seemed to be happy.

"C'mon Henry!" Ruby hollered she held open the door of the cab. The driver was waiting impatiently, looking at his meter. After giving Regina another hug, he shrugged his backpack on and got in the car. Emma smiled and waved at Regina, and climbed into the back of the cab; squashed next to her son.

Emma closed her eyes. She was so unsure at the moment. She'd be fine at Ruby's for a while, but what if she never found somewhere? What if she was forced to live on the streets?

Henry's voice broke her train of thought, stealing her attention. "Mom, what's for lunch? Are we eating at Ruby's? Is it true we're having burgers for dinner? Can I have a sandwich?" he asked her, a stream of question continuously pouring from his mouth. Emma shook her hair slightly; shifting the strands out of her eyes. She fiddled around, trying to find her purse, where she'd stored some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with the crust cut off. The heavy box on her lap, however, was taking up too much room. Emma thought for a moment. Should she hand it over to Henry, and risk him peeking inside? Or should she let him starve, given the congestion on the road. "Mom, I'm hungry!" Henry whined again. Emma decided to take a chance, and gently placed the cardboard box on Henry's lap, found her purse at the bottom of her feet; and opened it. A whiff of peanut butter escaped, filing her senses and reminding her how hungry _she _was. "Here, your favourite. Now stop complaining." Emma said as she tossed Henry a sandwich. She took a large bite out of her own, smiling at the creamy goodness of the peanut butter and the sweet, sharp taste of the grape jelly. Emma closed her eyes, and felt the nostalgia welling up in her throat.

When Emma was thirteen, she had lived with a woman called Sarah Fisher. Sarah Fisher had antarctic blue eyes, and long, platinum blonde hair. Emma liked to imagine that she looked like her, that she was her real mother come to take care of her. The other children in Sarah's care didn't like Emma, but Sarah did. Emma had been most happiest with Sarah. Whenever she got home from school, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich would be sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting for her with a glass of cool, creamy milk. Without having to look at the note by the side of the plate, always informing Emma what time Sarah would back from work, she knew it was meant for her. In the evening's, after they had finished their meals, Sarah would bring out a selection of ice creams. It was like magic, the way she could guess what flavour you wanted and bring it home later that day. Emma's favourite was Reese's peanut butter cups ice cream. August, one of the boys Sarah looked after, like the mahogany dark chocolate. After a couple months of living there, Sarah announced her intention to adopt Emma. Only, something had gone wrong. Emma wasn't sure exactly what it was, only knew that she had come home from school one afternoon to find a social worker waiting for her; and the sound of Sarah sobbing upstairs.

Tears pooled at the corner of Emma's eyes. She blinked them away, and looked down at the sandwich. She wasn't hungry any more.

The cab suddenly lurched forward, and Emma looked out the window. They were out of the traffic, and into the deep and dark neighbourhood Ruby lived in. Youths in baseball caps, jeans slung low around the buttocks, leered at Emma, putting their fingers in the air. They made racist remarks at the driver, who quickly wound his car window up. Just in time too, as a scrawny teen lunged at him; pen knife protruding from his sleeve. Pen knife. Hardly the most daunting weapon; Emma tutted in her head. Only a minute later did she realise that she had criticised the teen, not for attempting to hurt anyone, but for his weapon of choice. Emma chuckled slightly, gaining strange looks from Henry and Ruby. She had been living too long in Mattapan.

The cab stopped at the entrance to Ruby's, where a heated argument was taking place. Mr Gold, with his young bride fastened to his side, was shouting obscenities at a figure clad in leather who she did not recognise. The man, she realised, threw his arms up in the air and stomped off, entering the bowling alley next door. It was only midday and already the place was full of drunken fools and unkempt women smoking and spitting. Emma couldn't hope but notice that the Jolly Roger, as it was called, was actually a decent place. Pirate themed, she bet the food and service was first-rate and everything would be in working condition. If it hadn't have been here. But it was here, and that meant that it was one star, two star if she was being nice. She could already feel the stench of day old vomit and hookers clinging to her skin. Around the corner, was a strip club, called Unfortunate Souls. Emma had only heard bad things about that place, and did not enjoy the thought of living so close to it. It wasn't the bizarre, underwater theme, or the strange smell of heated plastic that emanated from the neon sign. It was the shady, backhand drug deals they did in the alley behind it. It was common knowledge to the people of Mattapan that Unfortunate Souls, one of the most popular strip clubs in this area of Boston, dealt in cocaine, molly, LSD and more. Once a month the police conducted a raid, arrested some low-level gangster; and shut the place down. The next day, however, it would open again, with a new drug king-pin popping up.

Graham had been investigating Unfortunate Souls, Emma thought. It had driven him away from her, along with the only chance of happiness she'd had in a long time.

Emma took the cardboard box off Henry's knees, and stepped out of the cab. She went round to the driver, and paid him for his time whilst Henry got the belongings out of the car boot. Ruby staggered towards Mr Gold on the uneven pavement, almost falling flat on her face. The last time Ruby had done that, she'd had six jaegermeisters and pitcher of sangria, and she'd gone to work the next day like nothing happened. Man, could that girl hold her liquor, Emma thought sincerely.

"Mr Gold, everything okay?" Ruby asked, holding on to his arm as she steadied herself, earning a scowl from his wife Belle.

"No dearie, because that... that poncy little man thinks he can shower me with money and everything's all right! I don't care about the money, I care about the standards. The standards!" Mr Gold snapped at her. Ruby stepped back, shocked. "What happened, Mr Gold?" she asked again.

"One of his disgusting customers took a piss on Belle's begonias. I tell you, he wouldn't even apologise. Why couldn't he have opened that bloody place somewhere else?" Mr Gold bellowed, turning furiously around and walking into the apartment complex. His doting wife glared again at Ruby, who look mystified, and ran back in after her husband.

Emma glanced at Ruby, who was too busy inspecting her blouse. She turned around, smiling at Henry. He was standing beside the pavement, struggling to carry the suitcase and the three plastic bags in his hands. The cab left, and Ruby sighed. "What? What is it?" Emma asked, curious.

"This has a hole in it," Ruby replied, gesturing to her blouse. "No wonder Belle kept giving me the evil-eye."

Emma laughed. "Sure," she said, "That's why." Emma carried the cardboard box to the door of the complex, and went inside. She could smell vanilla and gingerbread, the scent choking her as she opened her mouth to call in Henry. Underneath the smell, however, she could just detect the lingering odour of alcohol and pee. Now that made sense. Emma could see the forlorn begonias resting by the stairwell, where the source of all the smells was coming from.

"What the-" Ruby exclaimed, covering her nose with her free hand. Henry giggled at her expression, making his way to the elevator. Emma smiled. Suddenly an attractive man, with slicked back ebony hair and sharp features sprinted down the stairs, winking at Emma as he ran out the door. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and waistcoat, looking rather pleasant for someone in this neighbourhood. "That was Eric. He's the bartender next door." Ruby said candidly, looking down at her hands. Emma wondered if she'd ever had thing with him. It would explain the blush rising on her cheeks. What an interesting start to and interesting adventure, she thought. "Hang on a sec, the Jolly Roger has a bar?" Henry asked, confused.

"Yeah. As well as that, and the actual bowling alley and shoe rental, it has a diner and arcade. That place is huge." Ruby responded.

"Do many of the employees stay here, Ruby?" Emma inquired. Ruby shook her head.

"Eric's the only one. He's head barman though, so he spend most of his time there. Everyone who works there seems to hang out there." Ruby said. She then preceded to step into the elevator, which had just arrived, and gestured Henry and Emma to join her. Emma looked back at the door and smiled.

For some reason, she had a good feeling about the move. No, it wasn't because a cute guy had winked at her in the complex lobby. Honestly, Emma wasn't sure what it was. She didn't like the Jolly Roger, or Unfortunate Souls. But she loved Ruby and her grandmother. She loved Henry. Emma had the feeling that this was going to be the best Christmas she'd had for a long while.

The last time Emma had had a good Christmas, like a really good Christmas, she'd been staying with Sarah Fisher. Sarah loved Christmas, she loved the snow. They would make snow angels in the morning at weekends, going shopping for presents and stopping for some hot chocolate as a treat. It was Sarah who first introduced her to the concept of having cinnamon on her hot chocolate. You could practically _taste _the smell on your tongue.

Henry looked at his mother smiling wistfully. He wondered what she was thinking about. He wondered if she was really happy.

Ruby was busy poking the hole in her blouse. The bright, berry red made it feel like a Christmas themed clothing item, although she'd bought it in the summer. She hoped her grandmother would be able to fix it. She enjoyed sewing and knitting, these days. It was easy, she didn't have to move around all the time. Sure, Ruby got some pretty itchy sweaters over the years but who cared. It made her joyous.

Emma tried desperately to stop thinking about Sarah Fisher, and about Graham. She packed those old, painful memories back in a box in the back of her mind. It hurt too much to think. Goodness, at this rate she'd start reminiscing over Neal, and then there'd be trouble.

The elevator doors slid open.


	4. Chapter Four: Meeting Mr Jones

_I apologise for the long wait, I've had a lot of stuff happen, a lot of changes in my life. Hopefully things will settle down now, and I will try my best to finish writing this!_

_rainbowGraham x_

* * *

Henry was normally the sort of boy who obeyed his mother's wishes. When she, at eighteen years of age and stuck in prison for a crime she didn't commit, became pregnant; she could have refused. Given up. But no, she raised him, the best way she could, moving from job to job, flat to flat, useless boyfriend to useless boyfriend. The only true constant in her life was him. Growing up in a neighbourhood such as Mattapan, with all its danger and death, his one true protector was his mom. She was everything. So, unlike many other boys his age, Henry believed, in fact, knew, that doing what his mother told him would keep him safe. Of course, there was the odd occasion he decided to do the opposite, where he rode his bike without a helmet or secretly slipped his meatloaf in the bin when she wasn't looking. But this time, this was different. Ever since Ruby had given him the tour about a week ago, before his mom had started complaining about the nuisance it was making, Henry had wanted to go into the Jolly Roger Bowling Alley. The last time he'd been bowling was Owen Flynn's birthday party. All the other kids had laughed at Henry when he used the bowling ramp, called him a baby to his face. He was glad his mom hadn't been there, or god only knows how she would have reacted.

It was 4pm. His mom wouldn't be home for at least another two hours. That was plenty of time. Henry had the money. He could get a milkshake, play in the arcade. He'd told Ruby he was doing homework at a friends. Ruby was new to the game, and hadn't bothered to ask any specific details. He could do whatever he wanted for an hour, at least. Then he'd leave and nobody would be the wiser.

Henry put on a coat, grabbed some change and slipped through the door.

The smell hit him instantly. The irony scent of blood mixed with day-old vomit and a hint of cigarette smoke. He could see dark, glistening patches of wet on the pavement. Someone had had a fight in front of the flats, and not for the first time. Twice he'd been walking home with his mom, who had insisted on walking him to and from school for safety reasons, and he'd seen men brawling across the street. Bald men and thin men and skinheads and druggies, people with scars and prison tattoo's, with limp cigars on the corner of their mouths, men wearing vests that showed the dark, sweaty curls of chest hair. Not to forget the women, either. With their short skirts and ripped stockings, their greasy hair like rats tails, silver puffer jackets covered in grime and condom wrappers sticking to the bottom of their thigh high boots. Pretty Woman made prostitution look glamorous. Men were brutal, they pounced on you with brute force. The women were different. They screamed like peafowl, got up in your face, slashed away with concealed knives.

He went for the diner first. Sat down in a booth by the window, watching people passing by. He ordered a milkshake, chocolate, with cream and cherries. The waitress eyed him suspiciously. Her name tag read Ariel, and she had red hair to match, pinned back in a bun. Her hazel eyes smiled at him from under long, black lashes. Henry thought she was beautiful. He blushed when she bought him his milkshake, she in turn smiled; sweetly.

Henry glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 16:20. Finished with the milkshake, he pushed the glass aside, his change bouncing in his pocket, as he walked to the arcade. He set his sights upon the Pac-Man first, and then Guitar Hero. When his wrist-watch read 16:53, Henry fished around in his pocket for more change; and discovered that he had used it all. Sighing, Henry slumped out of the arcade and bumped into Cyndra DeWillis, an obnoxious and fickle girl in his class. Cyndra was standing with five teenage boys, one of whom had the same auburn curls as Cyndra. Her older brother Maxi, Henry guessed. "Hi Cyndra." Henry said. Cyndra shrugged her shoulders in response. Three of the teenage boys were busy wolf-whistling at Ariel the waitress, who flipped them off, whilst the other two begged the bartender to supply them with liquor. He didn't look too happy to be bothered, ignoring their pleas. Henry watched as he made the mistake of turning around, as one of the boys stuck his hand behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of vodka and hid it in his hoodie.

Henry knew better than to tell anyone. There were five boys and only one of him, and Cyndra was there to tell the whole school that he was a rat. He looked to Cyndra, who was apparently too busy biting her nails to care about her brother and his idiot friends. Suddenly, as if she sensed him looking at her, she stopped and stared at him. "Wanna come bowling with me? My brother and his friends will be there too, but they're buying the cheesy fries, so it's all cool." Cyndra asked. Henry nodded, not wanting to seem rude.

The seven of them made their way to the bowling lanes, laughing and joking and taking secret swigs from the vodka bottle. Henry sat down at lane 12, at the very end, so they wouldn't be spotted. Cyndra sat down next to him, and started programming their names into the machine. After the boys had paid, they raced over, loudly discussing who should be in what team and telling rude jokes. Cyndra, her brother and another lad, with long blonde hair tied in a ponytail; were on one team. Henry and the other three, two black guys wearing matching gold trainers, and the brown-haired boy who had stolen the vodka were on the other team. They set about playing the game, choosing their favourite balls and tactics. Henry was nervous. He didn't want to get into trouble, and yet, there was the bottle, out on the table, for anyone to view. Maxi saw him looking at it. "You wanna bit?" he asked, taking the bottle and pushing it in his face. Henry shook his head.

"Uh, no thank you." He replied, trying hard not to breath in the alcoholic fumes coming from Maxi. Maxi laughed, hard.

"What a little bitch!" He shouted. Just then, Ariel appeared with a tray of cheesy fries and a hot dog.

"Where do you want this?" She asked Cyndra, who pointed to the table.

Where the bottle was.

They all turned to look at the bottle, then at Ariel, who started to frown. "Alright you guys-" she started, before she was pushed over, tray in her face. Maxi and the others ran for it, jumping over Ariel and dodging the security guard who suddenly came up the stairs. Cyndra shrugged her shoulders at Henry, a lousy apology, before following her brother.

Ariel sat up, lamely picking out fries from her red hair. She noticed Henry, unmoved and still in shock.

"You."

* * *

It was 6:30 pm.

Emma had gotten lucky that evening. Mother Superior, a nun from the local run-down church, had come in for her favourite: lasagna. Mother Superior had always been kind to Emma, and gave her the best tips. As if the extra five dollars wasn't enough, she'd managed to get to the bus on time, instead of waiting another ten minutes only to get stuck in traffic. That left Emma feeling happy, confident. Even walking down the street, having some idiot on his way to Unfortunate Souls wolf whistle, she couldn't stop smiling.

Then phone rang.

Ruby trotted over, picking up the receiver with a bored expression. "Hello?" Ruby said. "No, this is her friend Ruby. Hang on a sec" Ruby replied. Emma got up, slightly confused, and took the phone from her hands. "Hello, who is this" Emma asked, ignoring the frantic expressions of Ruby. Whatever this was, she hoped it was fast. She'd just gotten in the apartment, was still waiting to hear the whistle of the coffee machine. "Is this Emma, Henry's mother?" a gruff man asked. Suddenly, Emma was worried. What had happened to Henry? "Yes, this is she. Me. I mean, her. I mean ... I am Henry's mother. Why, what's wrong? Is he hurt? He's okay, isn't he?" she rushed. The man on the other end gave a rough chuckle. "No, ma'am, your son is fine. He did, however..."

"HE WHAT?" Emma practically screamed. She dropped the phone, the receiver dangling from the table by its twisted cord. Ruby rushed in with their coffee, placing it on the table with a concerned look. Emma chucked her tartan scarf back around her neck, buttoned up her coat and rushed out the apartment.

The door to the apartment building banged shut as Emma walked briskly down the street to The Jolly Roger's. She pulled its doors open with force, knocking a bewildered woman smoking underneath a faded NO SMOKING sign over. Ignoring the woman's abusive language, Emma launched herself across the building, brushing past the diner and its on-lookers, past the bar and arcade. She saw a sign pointing upstairs, where the bowling lane's were. Underneath that sign, was an arrow pointing to an area described only as 'Management'. She headed in that direction. Her trainers pounded the grimy, navy carpet, mimicking her heartbeat. She was nervous.

There were two cubicles, confined in the small space they were permitted. A beady eyed woman, wearing a denim jacket embroidered with the word 'Gentlemen' sat at one desk, the other filled with a curvy brunette wearing a denim jacket also, with 'Starkey' on the back. Emma sighed, shaking her head slightly. Some people had the strangest fashion tastes. Behind the two cubicles was an office with the blinds drawn. A stocky, pot-bellied man in a red woollen hat was guarding the door, glancing at the clock on the wall. Suddenly, he looked up and smiled. He had spotted her. Emma steeled herself, arranged her face to convey no expression other than anger. Then she was ushered into the office.

The walls were blank, eggshell and about the only thing clean in the entire building. A certificate in a broken frame hung limply from its hook, hidden slightly by a coat stand. There was a small window, looking out on to the brick exterior of the apartment building. The smell of sour milk emanated from the dirty brown carpet. Filing cabinets lined the room, a small khaki safe teetered on the edge of the largest one. A wooden desk took up most of the room, cluttered with paper and files, used napkins and McDonald's wrappers. An open laptop had been pushed to the side of the desk, presumably to make run for the cardboard box filled with ribs, barbecue sauce still dripping onto the mahogany surface of the table.

Henry sat, shoulders slumped and head bowed, in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Emma decided not to take the other one, and waited for the man sitting in a plush red swivel chair to turn round. Henry looked up at her, then back down at his fingers. Emma sighed. "What is your name?" The man asked in an English accent. Hmmm, Emma thought. English. The man had still not turned around. "I am Henry's mother. Why do you need to know my name, I thought you called me knowing my name? Is this some sort of joke?" she replied, irritated. Why didn't he face her?

"Sorry love," he began, "its just I'd quite like to ascertain whether you are indeed this young boy's mother" the man asked, rubbing his chin. He spun around, and Emma recognised him as the man in leather she had seen on moving day. He had rumpled dark hair, a short, unruly mess on top of his head. Emma wanted to run her hands through it.

She blushed, unprepared for the thought. What was wrong with her? He was the manager/owner of the Jolly Roger, and he'd just caught her son stealing. Really Emma, she thought, get a hold of yourself. "Well, my name is Emma Swan. And what exactly does that prove, anyway?" Emma replied haughtily. "I'm sorry, my lady, if I have offended you," clearly sensing her uneasiness, he said "I just needed to know". He smiled at her, flashing his pearly whites. It was a sincere smile, the kind that reached his ocean blue eyes.

Wow, Emma thought. He's gorgeous.

Not that that mattered. Emma could feel a blush rising again, and turned around to hide it. God, she must look a mess. She hadn't had time to get changed, her blonde hair scraped into a sloppy ponytail, no make-up adorned her face. She was still wearing her blue gingham dress and apron, her name tag festooned to her side like a medal of honour. She smelt bacon grease in her hair, a sticky stain that she assumed was chowder clung to her dress; her trainers were falling apart.

Emma turned back around, steeling herself. "I don't know what you think happened here, Mr-"

"Jones. But please, call me Killian. Mr Jones is my father."

"I don't know what you think happened here, _Mr Jones_, but I assure my son did nothing wrong. He's a good boy, he wouldn't steal."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. Young Henry here already told me what really happened."

Emma faltered at this. "Oh. He did?" She asked, suddenly unsure of her herself. She had put on a defensive front, but he had lowered it, with his kind and gentle voice, and Emma was ashamed to think about it at such a time. She rarely let her walls down for anyone, and she wasn't about to now. "Well, if that's settled, then I'd like to take my son home now."

"Of course. I won't be pressing charges, but if anything happens again I'm afraid I may not have the choice. Your son's friends assaulted one of my employee's, and I can't stand for that sort of thing in my establishment."

"Oh really?" thought Emma, memories of the past week going through her mind. "Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say that this place runs on that sort of thing."

Killian, _Mr Jones;_ Emma mentally scolded herself, was looking a little upset. "I'm sorry love, but have a done something to offend you?" he inquired, appealing with his beautiful blue eyes. Emma could tell she had been too harsh. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her nervously.

"No. It's just... this _place._ Sometimes..." She waved her hands about, gesturing. Her head hurt. "I should go now. Thank you." She finished, holding her hand out. He shook it. His hand was warm and soft, and smelt like salted caramel. The handshake lasted longer than expected, neither wanting to let go, until thoughts of Henry pulled her away. "Come on, Henry." She said, as he stood up from the chair and walked towards the door.

"Just a moment, would you?" Mr Jones suddenly asked. Emma looked at him, waiting.

"I, uh, don't mean to beat around the bush here, Miss Swan, but, would you care to grab a coffee with me sometime?" He smiled.

"Are you asking me out?" Emma asked, confused, and feeling a light blush rise on her cheeks. It had been a while since she'd been asked out.

"I believe so." He replied.

"Will there be taco's?" Emma asked earnestly. He laughed. She liked his laugh. It was warm like whiskey. The thought came out of nowhere, and Emma tried to bat it away, frustrated. Now was not the time. Annoyed, she looked to Henry and, decided, turned back to Mr Jones.

"All joking aside, Mr Jones, but I don't think I'll be going out with you any time soon."

"Is that so?" he asked. He was smiling, joking, but Emma felt irritated.

"YES! In fact, Henry and I only intend to stay here till Christmas, then we'll find a new home, as far away as Mattapan and Boston and this shit hole as possible"

Emma strutted out the door, Henry in tow. She didn't stop as she walked through the offices, past the bar, arcade and diner, ignoring the curious looks. She didn't stop until she was outside, breathing in the cold winter air, with the faintest scent of motor oil. She hadn't meant to say that last part. But hadn't she always thought it? That she wanted to leave Mattapan, leave Boston, find somewhere she could finally call home? Still, the language, in front of Henry nonetheless. The owner hadn't seemed that harsh, and he could have called the police, as many others would do. He gave her kindness and she responded with cruelty. All because she didn't want him to think that he effected her. Because he had. Not that much, Emma thought to herself. He was attractive, which was unusual around here. That was all, Emma told herself.


End file.
